


Waiting

by BradyGirl_12



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Teen Titans, Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Male Slash, Slash, Violence, World's Finest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when the Batman is not good at waiting.  Bruce is even worse.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. English Muffins

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Mild violence  
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, DC does, more's the pity.  
> Original LJ Dates Of Completion: February 4, 6, 2007  
> Original LJ Dates Of Posting: February 5, 7, 2007  
> Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, DC does, more's the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 1478 + 1507 (Total: 2985)

Bruce Wayne sat in his board meeting and was…bored.

The monthly meeting of the Wayne Foundation Board of Directors was not very exciting. Bruce had no choice but to attend. How could he expect his directors to put in a full effort if he didn’t show up? He put on an interested face but allowed his mind to drift when the lights were dimmed for a PowerPoint presentation…

& & & & & &

_Dick laughed as he snatched an English muffin off the tray. Sitting cross-legged on the rumpled bed, his hair was wet and his smile infectious. Clad in an old, tight T-shirt and cut-offs, his skin glowed from the shower._

Bruce wore his dark-blue silk robe, his skin also fresh from the shower. Dick’s blue eyes sparkled as he spread strawberry jam over the muffin.

Bruce copied him, taking a bite out of his English muffin. He was ravenous this morning. 

**Probably because of this young stud wearing me out.**

His smile matched Dick’s. Vitality poured off the 19-year-old, his appetite another match. He bounced slightly, careful of the tray but unable to contain his exuberance for the new day. “Alfred’s gonna cook my favorite tonight.” He drank freshly-squeezed orange juice.

“You have a lot of favorites.” Bruce buttered a piece of toast.

“Italian.”

“Ah.” Bruce put down his knife. “So it’s ziti with a rich, thick, tomato sauce laced with oregano.”

“Simple but delicious.”

“Like you.”

Delight swept over Dick’s face. “You’re really learning about this sappy talk, Bruce.”

Bruce laughed. “I guess so.” He smiled as he traced his finger down his young lover’s bare arm. “You inspire me.”

Dick laughed and leaned forward, kissing him deeply. When they parted, Dick popped the last of the English muffin into his mouth and he bounced into the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He emerged and grabbed his sneakers, balancing on one leg as he put them on. Bruce watched with appreciation. A man who could fly through the air without a net or do backflips on a balance beam had no trouble staying on his feet while struggling with ratty old sneakers.

“You can get a new pair of sneakers, you know.”

“What, and have to break them in? Nah.” Dick quickly laced both shoes. “Sneakers are like lovers. Too much trouble to break in new ones.” He laughed and ducked at the pillow thrown his way. “I’m off to New York for the monthly meeting.”

Bruce sighed. “Your Teen Titans’ monthly meeting will be a lot more interesting than my Wayne Foundation monthly meeting.”

“That’s what you think,” Dick snorted. “Wally will be trying to hit on everyone, Roy will be cracking bad jokes, Donna will threaten to tie them both up with her golden lasso, and Victor will just shake his head while Kori looks puzzled and Raven tries to explain human social interaction to her. Lilith could have quoted everyone word for word from her dream last night and there you have it.”

Bruce grinned. He knew that Dick was exaggerating but that the patterns of his friends’ behavior was pretty accurate. “And what will you be doing?”

“Trying to get everyone to clam up long enough to get the meeting over and done with.”

“Good luck.”

“Ha!” Dick raced over to the bed and kissed Bruce again. “I’ll be back home tonight. The Batplane is pretty handy.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Dick bounced out of the room and Bruce heard him say, “Oh, Alfred, thanks for the snack!” The sound of a paper bag crinkling was overlapped by, “Have a safe trip, Master Dick.”

“You bet! Hey, help the old man in there get dressed, will you?”

“I heard that!”

Laughter echoed down the hall.

Alfred came into the bedroom, smiling and shaking his head. “That young man…”

“…is a wiseguy when he puts his mind to it.” Bruce didn’t mind, of course. He set aside the tray. “I’m already showered, Alfred, I just need a suit for the board meeting.”

“Very good, sir.”

Bruce often got out his own clothes but there were mornings when Alfred would appear and he let the butler play gentleman’s gentleman. Alfred opened the door to the large walk-in closet and selected a suit. He despaired of most of the clothes in one half of the closet, filled with Dick’s casual clothes interspersed with proper suits. 

Dick’s old room had been filled with Bruce’s old toys and posters, moved from this bedroom. This room had been Bruce’s childhood room, but as he grew older he had gradually moved his childish things to the unoccupied room next to his. When Dick had come into his life, he had given the boy that room and allowed him to mix his own things in it, even offering to relocate the childhood items, but Dick had cheerfully decorated the room with his own belongings while keeping most of Bruce’s things. Now he shared Bruce’s room and their clothes shared the closet, and some of Dick’s things had been carried over to this room.

Bruce liked to think that the mingling of possessions symbolized their life together. They’d be intertwined for a very long time, even before their romance had started. So much in one package. Bruce considered himself very lucky.

“Your suit, sir.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” __

& & & & & &

The lights were coming up. Bruce scolded himself as he knew Alfred would have done and paid attention to the rest of the meeting.

& & & & & &

Bruce relaxed as his chauffeur drove him home. The limousine was a rental as Alfred had duties to attend to at home, and Bruce had wanted to look over some papers on his way into the city. He read several more contracts and papers before the chauffeur turned into the main gates of Wayne Manor.

Bruce alighted and thanked the driver, who nodded and drove away. He let himself in through the front door, setting his briefcase on the hall table, sniffing the heavenly smell of baking cranberry muffins. The kitchen radio was on, the sound low. He was about to call for Alfred when the butler came down the hall.

“I smell the wonderful aroma of muffins, Alfred! And cranberry…” Bruce’s voice trailed off. “What is it?”

“The radio…there’s an attack on Titans Tower.”

Bruce felt his blood run cold. The analytical part of his mind observed how one’s blood could feel cold, not just a saying. He strode into the living room and turned on the TV.

_“…and the Rampagers are hurling high-powered explosives at the Tower. The Titans are using their unique abilities to push them back…”_

Speedy was launching arrow after arrow at the scarlet-clad men besieging his teammates. Wonder Girl and Cyborg were in close combat, using natural and mechanical strength to toss some unlucky attackers around. Starfire and Raven trailed fire in their own unique ways as they counterattacked. Lilith ran to attack a man, using martial arts. A blur of red-and-yellow streaked across the screen, Kid Flash on the job, and smoke and fire began to obscure the tableau. 

There. In the middle of it all, shouting orders as he took out one soldier and attacked the next, was Robin, yellow cape flying out behind him as he somersaulted, kicking the second soldier in the stomach and sending him crashing into another attacker. 

The television camera panned over to Starfire’s spectacular dispatching of two Rampagers, and Wonder Girl came into view as she whirled her lasso over her head, lashing out with it. A scream overlapped the shouting, Bruce clenching his trembling fist. Wonder Girl turned and yelled, “Speedy!” She raced out of camera range while Raven quietly hurled an energy bolt at a large machine, the explosion shaking the camera. 

More smoke rolled in to blot out the scene, then cleared just enough for Bruce to start breathing again. Robin darted into view, his uniform smudged with smoke, his face resolute as he ran toward another machine, its barrel pointed at the Tower. Robin reached into his utility belt and took out a round object (smoke bomb, Bruce noted), tossed it, but the barrel roared with fire as it lanced toward Titans Tower. Starfire came into camera range and her energy bolt destroyed the machine. Robin turned back to help Wonder Girl as she pulled Speedy out of the way of falling debris, Kid Flash’s speed keeping other chunks of concrete away from Cyborg’s head as Starfire and Raven began a methodical destruction of the the ring of machines encircling the Tower. Robin’s smile was bright as he skidded to a stop by Speedy and Wonder Girl, and in the next second, the earth shook as energy blasted a hole right in front of them, smoke and concrete and screams filling the screen…

The camera went dark.


	2. Cranberry Muffins

_“We’re sorry, but we have lost contact with our man on the scene, and the police are keeping people out of the area.”_

Bruce stood in the middle of the living room for a handful of seconds, then turned and walked past Alfred. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Alfred said nothing, worry sharp on his face. He debated for a moment, then shut off the television and returned to the kitchen, leaving the radio on as he checked on his muffins. Cranberry was one of Master Dick’s favorite flavors.

& & & & & &

A gentle zephyr of wind swirled around the Cave, the only sound as the Batman stalked to the computers. He booted it up and clicked on all the news sites but nothing new showed up.

Maybe he should call Clark. He was about to use his JLA communicator when he saw a headline on MSNBC about Superman battling a tsunami. He replaced the comm unit in his belt. 

The current picture was in New York, of rubble strewn among the smoke as a picture refreshed on the site. Suddenly, Starfire went on her own rampage, exploding every machine in sight and driving the attackers back. The other Titans were rounding up the scattered troops, but there was no sign of Wonder Girl, Speedy, or Robin.

& & & & & &

 _“Robin! **Robin!”**_

_Batman’s voice was sharp and laced with panic. Fire raged in the tenement, firefighters struggling to contain the blaze. Batman had brought out a screaming little boy, Robin close behind escorting an elderly man. A shower of beams and concrete walled off the doorway that Batman and his charge had just escaped through. There was no way back in._

_“Batman, get back!” ordered the Fire Chief._

_“Robin’s in there!”_

_Agonized, Batman watched as the roof began to cave in._

_**Dick…** _

_“Need some help here!”_

_Batman turned wildly, cape swirling, heart triphammering. A scorched, tattered Robin staggered with the old man’s arm around his shoulders. Batman raced to grab Robin before he collapsed, a paramedic taking care of the old man. Robin coughed and allowed his mentor to help him to a firetruck, where another paramedic checked him out._

_“Just some smoke inhalation, Batman. His voice’ll be raspy for awhile, but he’ll be fine.”_

_Batman kept his arm around Robin as the paramedic moved away. He leaned in close._

_“Dick…” he whispered._

_Robin looked up at him. A smile curved his lips, brightening his smudged face._

_“I love you, too, Bruce.”_

& & & & & &

Bruce understood the fine art of waiting. He had cultivated it as the Batman, one of the tools of his trade.

That didn’t mean he always liked it.

He slammed his fist down on the console. If he lost Dick…

Not his partner, his brightness, his reason for living. 

The Mission was a poor substitute for love. It didn’t keep you warm at night or sit beside you in the Batmobile or steal your English muffins from your breakfast tray.

_Please, God, don’t take him way from me, too._

He should fly to New York…wait, Dick had taken the Batplane…he was going to be disappointed to miss that ziti and tomato sauce tonight…

Bruce felt lightheaded as the silence closed in on him. He grabbed the computer chair, staring unseeingly at the screen.

The scrape of a footstep on stone set him whirling around.

At the entrance to the Cave stood Dick, his uniform in tatters, blood and smoke and dirt on bare arms and legs. 

For a second, time stood still.

Then Dick limped over to Bruce, and Bat gathered Robin under his wing, seeing Superman standing discreetly by the entrance.

Bruce and Dick hugged tightly, Bruce smoothing Dick’s smoky hair compulsively.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Dick murmured. “Just superficial cuts and bruises. When Clark showed up at the Tower, I asked him to bring me home after I knew everyone was all right.”

Bruce remained silent, still stroking soft hair.

“Bruce…”

Reluctantly, Bruce let go. He immediately began cataloging injuries: cuts, bruises, a swollen ankle…

“I have to go back. I’m their leader.”

Duty called. He’d taught the boy well.

“First you have Alfred bind up that ankle and attend to those cuts after you shower and put on a fresh uniform.”

Dick looked down at his uniform and laughed. “Looks like not much left of my costume. Though I suppose…” he removed his mask and winked “…you wouldn’t mind that.”

Bruce sighed. “Incorrigible.” He took Dick’s mask.

Dick grinned and hobbled up the stone steps, yelling for Alfred. The butler’s voice could be heard from the unseen heights, “Master Dick! Thank all that’s holy!”

“Whoa! Do I smell cranberry muffins baking?”

“Come here, young sir. If you’re hungry you must be all right.”

Laughter floated down to the Cave. Bruce blinked back tears and was glad he was facing away from his very perceptive best friend. Cowl or not, Clark knew him very well, indeed. 

“He’s very special.”

Bruce nearly jumped. Perceptive, and as stealthy as Selena. He turned around.

“Extremely.”

“I’m…sorry I couldn’t get there sooner. I…”

“It’s all right, Clark.” Bruce laid a glove on a blue-clad arm. “You had to deal with the tsunami.”

Clark sighed. “I know. It’s just that I like to keep my friends safe.”

“You do a good job of it.”

Clark smiled. “Thank you.” He looked up towards the manor and Bruce got the feeling he was tracking Dick’s progress with his X-ray vision. “He never fails to impress me when I see him with the Titans. He’s such a natural leader, Bruce. You should have seen him after the battle was over. He was dizzy and bleeding and hobbling but still went around to every member of his team and made sure they were all right. He probably would have started assessing building damage but he wanted to come to you. He said that I was faster than a speeding phone call, and he’s right.” Clark smiled again, amused by Dick’s sense of humor. His voice softened. “He knew you’d want to see him.”

Bruce felt a myriad of emotions roil inside him: relief, pride, fear, and a love so strong and tender that he felt like crying again. He took a deep breath and said, “I’m proud of him.” He looked up at the steps. “Sometimes I look at him and think he’s the only thing I ever got right.”

Understanding filled the Cave amidst the rustling of the bats, then Bruce roused himself and said, “Alfred would consider me a poor host. I have bottled water down here, but if you would like something else…”

“Bottled water is fine.”

They spoke of the attack by the Rampagers and JLA matters and before Bruce realized it, Dick was coming down the stairs again, freshly-showered and in a new uniform.

Bruce took a swig of water from the bottle he had gotten for himself in addition to Clark’s. His eyes took note of the bandages on Dick’s arms and legs, and his ankle was tightly bound. He was carrying a large bag. 

“So, I see my super-chauffeur is patiently waiting. Thanks, Clark.”

“Any time, Dick.”

“Here, have a muffin. Warm from the oven! Alfred gave me the whole batch to bring back to the gang.”

“Gang, huh?” Clark bit into the muffin and looked at it appreciatively.

“Yeah, the whole gang. Spanky, Alfalfa, Darla, Buckwheat…”

Clark grinned and happily ate his muffin.

Dick grabbed Bruce’s water bottle and drank deeply. He returned it to his lover, his blue eyes looking deeply into Bruce’s. Clark clapped Bruce on the shoulder and said, “I’ll be waiting at the entrance, Dick.” He moved away, and Dick suddenly hugged Bruce. 

Bruce closed his eyes, smelling the scent of lemon shampoo and Irish Spring soap over the lingering smokiness. He hugged Dick back.

Dick whispered, “I’ll be back tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting.” 

Bruce released him and Dick smiled at him, gently taking his mask back from Bruce’s hand. His eyes sparkled as he affixed his mask, kissable lips leaning in for a loving kiss. Bruce desperately wanted to grab him again and keep him here in the safe confines of the Cave, but he kissed back and then let him go. He received a muffin from the bag with a wink and a smile from Dick.

Dick walked confidently toward Clark despite his limp. He would have jumped into Clark’s arms except for the ankle, instead settling for the Kryptonian sweeping him up into his arms while Dick waved his hand in a bored rich boy gesture. 

“To Titans Tower, my good Superman.”

Clark chuckled. “Right away, Master Dick.”

They both laughed as Clark flew them out of the Cave, the bats squealing high overhead.

Bruce looked at the tunnel entrance for several minutes, the sudden quiet enfolding him like a cape, then turned and walked to the computer and sat down, setting the water bottle on the desk with care. He took a bite of warm muffin.

The Batman was good at waiting.

Bruce could be even better.


End file.
